


Open Up

by pastelfalcon



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Sam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelfalcon/pseuds/pastelfalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether Cap’s being thrown from a roof, toppling out of a plane, or is stumbling over his words and needs an out, Sam’s there with wings and arms wide open to keep him safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Up

Catching Steve is just one of the many things Sam considers to be inherent to his life now, traveling the world defeating super villains and looking for traces of the Winter Soldier. Whether Cap’s being thrown from a roof, toppling out of a plane, or is stumbling over his words and needs an out, Sam’s there with wings and arms wide open to keep him safe. 

Which is why it startles him when Steve breaks their kiss, lips wet and glistening in the last dregs of orange sunlight spilling in from the hotel window, and says, low and reedy and male, “Can I fuck you?”

“I’m pretty sure we been doing that for awhile now, Steve,” Sam says with concerned, incredulous confusion. Steve’s looking at him with wide eyes like maybe he thinks Sam will say no. “Man, you alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve mumbles distractedly, easing up into a sitting position that forces Sam to sit up as well. “I just meant, me on top.” He looks flustered, carding a hand through his soft hair in the way Sam’s come to associate with stress and embarrassment. Not exactly where he wants Steve’s headspace when they’re in bed naked and horny. 

“We’ve done that too,” Sam reminds him gently. He rubs his palm over Steve’s broad shoulder, trying to figure out what the hell’s going on here without sounding like an asshole. “You know I’m okay with that.”

“’Okay with that’,” Steve echoes sourly. 

“Hey now,” Sam says quickly, turning his comforting petting into a firm grip, “Look at me, Steve.” When Steve does, Sam scoots a little closer, bending a knee so he can shift up against Steve’s side. “I thought we were past that kinda thing.”

“It’s not – it was never a thing.” 

“I didn’t think so either, but you’re not really convincing me, sounding like that.”

Steve scowls and frowns at the same time. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, I am. I shouldn’t have come at you like that.” Sam softens his grasp, sliding his fingers back down Steve’s arm to tug at his elbow. “C’mere, boyfriend.” 

It never gets old, seeing Captain America smile like he has no other choice, eyes lighting up like the first break of sunrise over purple mountains, majesty. It especially never gets old watching it happen because Sam references their relationship, like he’s recited some poetry just by acknowledging who they’ve been to each other since their last jog back home before setting out on the world. 

Steve gets on top of him and Sam gets back to sucking on his tongue, hands on his back and hips rolling up into Steve’s until they’re both squirming to get their cocks together in Steve’s sweaty palm. It’s Sam who paws at the flimsy bedside table for the lube, popping the cap with a thumb, but it’s Steve who gets it on his fingers, slick and unnaturally warm to the touch.

“That’s it,” Sam croons when Steve gets a finger inside him almost immediately. He nudges their foreheads together so their kissing doesn’t distract Steve from his goal. “That’s – nn, yeah, little deeper.”

“I wasn’t mad about that,” Steve confesses impulsively as he accidentally smears a little lube on Sam’s ass cheek with his knuckles, free fingers awkwardly curled while he presses deeper inside. “It doesn’t matter to me, who does who.” 

“I know,” Sam says easily, forgetting his resolve and nudging their mouths together, warm and sweet. “We live pretty stressful lives, Steve. It’s bound to come out somewhere.”

Steve makes the kiss wet, licking his way into Sam’s mouth as he pushes two more fingers in all at once, welcomed easily by the familiar flex of Sam’s insides. He’s always easier to open up than Steve is, and Sam’s pretty sure they both like that. “So hot inside,” Steve groans against his mouth, cramming his fingers in hard and rocking his wrist in a purposeful grind.

“And outside,” Sam amends, laughing breathlessly when Steve wriggles his fingers playfully. “Watch what you’re doing with those!” 

As is often the case, they fuck slow, kissing through laughter that stutters on moans, until suddenly they’re not going slow anymore and Sam’s got his hands on Steve’s ass to pull him in deep, thrusts coming short and hard as the headboard claps for an encore before they’re even done. Sam thinks maybe he should have asked for more lube because if the Avengers call tomorrow Sam’s going to be walking like a damn duck before he gets in the air, but it’s kinda worth it since Steve never blushes when Tony gives them shit about boning before a mission: instead he grins in a very un-Captain America way and Thor hoots and raises a fist like he’s reveling in Steve’s victories. 

It’s – weird, hanging out with the other Avengers.

“Don’t,” Sam says when Steve tries to balance on one hand to get the other around Sam’s cock, “Let me.”

Steve loses the thread a little, obligingly allowing Sam to jerk himself off but looking vaguely disappointed about it, both hands back on the mattress to hold himself up. Sam grins beneath him, lifting his head to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the underside of Steve’s chin. “Sam,” Steve sighs out, eyes closing briefly as he sinks in deep. 

“That’s right,” Sam chuckles, mouthing along the side of Steve’s neck, letting Steve feel the quick drag of his knuckles as he tugs his cock, fingers wet with sweat and precum. He keeps one hand on Steve’s ass, kneading briefly before getting a leg up around the back of Steve’s thighs. “C’mon, I gotchu.” 

“I know,” Steve pants, fucking in faster and clumsier, “I know, I know – oh, *God*, I know.”

Sam’s arm moves up Steve’s back to hug his shoulders, getting his mouth back on Steve’s to breathe in every huff of breath and husky groan. “Yeah, see, that’s exactly how Sammy likes it.”

Steve laughs again but it’s only for a second before he’s gripping the sheets hard enough to drag their fitted corners from the mattress, shoving into Sam with everything Sam can take without super soldier styled internal bruising. It burns down deep and spreads up through Sam’s dick like fire, hot and sharp and fuck Steve *fuck* - 

Sam comes first, teeth gritted and clacking against Steve’s when the kiss gets too sloppy, his moan hissing into the kind of gasped groan he makes when he catches the full bulk of Steve’s weight midair, eyes clenched tight against the glaring sunlight of Steve’s smile. 

He’s loopy after, short on air and overwhelmed with aches and burns and the best kind of shocky afterglow, Steve still hammering into his prostate like Sam didn’t just blow between their stomachs like Spider-Man on a bad day. Still, he wraps both arms around Steve and holds him tight, leaning up to kiss his ear and whisper the kind of lazy, trashy language that has Steve’s skin burning and his hands slipping on the bed. He folds both legs around Steve’s hips, taking in all his heat, all his need, and keeping it for just them. Just this. 

“Sam,” Steve says over and over and over, “Sam, *God*. I love you.” 

“Love you more,” Sam says, stupid and drunk on sex and not even half as suave as one should be when banging Captain freaking America, but Steve cries out like it’s the filthiest thing he’s heard in a hundred years and comes bucking mindlessly, hiccupping on his own moans and shuddering when Sam’s kisses get noisier in his ear. 

When Steve’s arms buckle just a little, Sam’s already holding him tight with all of himself, because that’s Sam’s job. 

Sam doesn’t let Steve shift off of him, shushing him wordlessly when Steve tries, hands petting down the sweat on Steve’s back like he’s soothing a skittish animal. 

“I am sorry,” Steve says, voice hoarse, “About before.” 

“And I told you I didn’t handle it well,” Sam reminds him lightly, fussing with the overlong mess of Steve’s hair. He likes Steve’s weight on him even if it makes Steve restless and worried, like he can somehow smother Sam even though Sam spends his afternoons evading gunfire and snatching Cap out of the air like shit, it must be a day ending in y. “You were feeling a little vulnerable. You’re allowed to feel that way.”

“Thanks, Counselor Wilson,” Steve mumbles in what he probably meant as a playful jab but what comes out as genuinely appreciative. He quirks his mouth. 

“Counselor Boyfriend Wilson, that’s me,” Sam agrees with a grin, kissing Steve smack on the tip of his nose. “We’re at different curves in the road. Nothing wrong with that.” 

Steve hums in a noncommittal way, dropping his chin to rest on Sam’s collarbone, though it takes a little wiggling to get there. Sam makes an exaggerated face at the weird sensation of being empty after having been plowed full, and Steve laughs at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Sam mock complains, shifting fussily beneath him, “Just rearrange my ass and then drop it, I see how it is.” 

“Love you,” Steve blurts, eyes bright. 

Sam strokes his shoulders and then the bridge of his nose. “Love you too, Captain Boyfriend Rogers.” 

When Steve falls asleep a few minutes later, he falls asleep right into Sam’s open arms and wings.


End file.
